The Divine Presence In Death The Support Of The Good Man.

Adapted From A Sermon

By Philip Doddridge

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

(Psalms 23:4)

This morning we turn to the comforting words of Psalm 23:4: "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me."

Philip Doddridge once preached on this truth under the title "The Divine Presence In Death The Support Of The Good Man." In that message he reminds us that even in the darkest moment of life—the approach of death—the good man finds strength not in his own power, but in the near and sustaining presence of God. This promise removes fear and brings real comfort to the believer. As we open our hearts to this Scripture, may we see how the Lord's constant companionship turns even the shadow of death into a place of peace and hope.

There is not a more violent passion in our entire nature than fear. And among all the things that cause this passion, nothing is more terrifying than death—especially when a person has only natural strength to rely on, with no higher support.

Yet our religion has the power to lift the soul above this natural fear. It gives us a remedy against those terrors that would otherwise overwhelm us completely.

Only the Prince of glory has the right to disarm the king of terrors. He has abolished death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel. In this way he has set free those who, because of their fear of death, lived their whole lives in slavery.

Just as the sun's light reaches us before it rises above the horizon and creates a pleasant twilight that slowly reveals thousands of beauties in the world hidden by the darkness of night, the same thing happened before the gospel came. Saints who lived under the old Mosaic system received some faint, reflected rays from the Sun of righteousness. They found encouragement and could rejoice in the comforts that we now see much more clearly and receive in much greater measure as believers.

Few books in the Old Testament show this joyful attitude more clearly than the book of Psalms. Few of David's psalms do it better than the one we are looking at now. So when a Christian feels his happiest and most joyful moments he can hardly find better words to express his current joy or his confident hope for the future than the ones the Psalmist gives him here. The language is simple and clear, yet strong and full of meaning, just as poetry and true devotion would want it to be.

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want, and so on.

David had such joy and trust in the Lord's care as his shepherd that he felt ready to walk through any path, as long as the Lord's staff supported him and his rod guarded him.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

These words need no lengthy explanation. You can see that they point to two clear things. First, there is the dark situation the Psalmist imagines himself in. Second, there is the comfort he expects to find even in that place.

The dark situation is the valley of the shadow of death. The phrase clearly refers to something that could happen in the wilderness. A shepherd might lead his flock through a narrow valley where high rocks and mountains block the light and make the path very dark. The sheep would feel afraid to go in.

So the words "the valley of the shadow of death" can stand for any serious danger. But the Psalmist would not use this phrase here unless it also included the moment of dying.

He then says that even in this situation he will fear no evil. He does not say this because he has natural courage and is used to ignoring danger which he has faced many times before in battle. He also does not say it because he does not care at all about what happens after death.

Instead, he trusts that God will be with him there. He believes God will act toward him as a shepherd. God will use his rod and staff—the tools of a shepherd's care—to guide and protect him. The shepherd uses the rod to lead the flock. He uses the staff to drive away dogs or even more dangerous animals that might attack the weak and helpless sheep.

The words naturally give us three main points. These points, along with what we can learn from them, will be the whole focus of the message.

I. First, even the best of men cannot help but see something dark and troubling when they think about death.

II. Second, the good man still has good reason to believe that God will be present with him in a favorable way at that time.

III. Third, the hope of having such strong support is so comforting that it takes away the fear from death.

And so listen now to what follows. Listen as people who will one day die. Lift up your hearts to God in serious prayer. May each of you may receive these comforts. May each of you may have clear proof that these comforts belong to you. It would have been better for us never to have been born than to face the need to walk through this valley without this support.

I. First point. Even the best of men cannot help but see something dark and troubling when they think about dying.

There is no need to argue from the fears of death that some of the most respected Christians in Scripture expressed. There is also no need to point to the struggle that Jesus himself felt when he faced it. It is enough to mention a few clear facts that touch everyone. These facts make the point so obvious that no further proof is required.

We must say goodbye forever to all the pleasures and joys of this life. We must feel the pains of our body breaking down. We must let this body fall into the grave to decay. And we must go with our soul into the presence of God as our Judge. He will then fix us right away in an eternity that cannot be changed.

These things bring terror and pain which can affect even the best of men to some degree.

1. To say goodbye forever to all the pleasures and enjoyments of this life is something no human being can feel indifferent about.

Even if the earth looks like an empty wilderness to a soul that knows the hope of heaven, we have to admit that some pleasant places still exist here. There are spots of comfort, like beatiful forests and springs of water, that even a person traveling toward heaven may feel reluctant to leave behind.

Light is truly sweet, and it feels good to see the sun. God has made this world so rich and beautiful that it is hard for the mind to imagine anything better. When people try to picture paradise, they fill it with the good things from our own earth.

In many situations we cannot help enjoying the company of our fellow travelers. When we come to a road so narrow that only one person can pass at a time, we feel sad about the separation. We tend to say goodbye to our former companions with too much emotion."I shall look on man no more among the inhabitants of the world" was the thought and complaint of a very eminent saint when he saw the rest of his life would be cut short. It is no surprise that this caused him some sorrow.

2. Second point. The expected pain of the body breaking down makes the thought of death painful even to a good man.

Christians! Those of us who have suffered extreme pain know how much it tests not only our natural strength but also our grace. Pain naturally throws the mind off balance. It makes it extremely hard to keep our thoughts clear when the body feels awful. The minutes drag on and seem endless. In the morning it feels natural to say, “Would God it were evening!” And in the evening to say, “Would God it were morning!”

If we knew we had to go through some of our past sufferings again, the thought of repeating them would feel dreadful. Untried pains often seem even worse. We secretly fear that they hold something unknown that might hurt more than anything we have already felt.

When a man knows that a doctor must cut off his leg or arm, his mind fills with many frightening thoughts about the intense pain and the surgery itself. This is not to claim that death is definitely more painful than that amputation. It is not even likely to be more painful. Yet most people are still desperate to avoid death right then, even if it means paying an enormous price in suffering—they will endure that known, horrible agony just to buy a little more time alive and postpone the moment of dying. That shows how viscerally and deeply frightening death feels to us on a gut level. Though, granted, in some situations it is actually our duty to avoid death at that heavy cost. (And yes, even as believers who know death leads to something far better, our fallen human nature still recoils so powerfully from it that we'll choose massive suffering to delay the end.)

In Scripture the pains of death stand as the classic example of the worst suffering nature can bear, or rather the kind of suffering under which nature must collapse. Innocent nature naturally shrinks from such pain. How much more must fallen nature shrink back—nature that is weakened by the fall and taught to see sickness and pain as part of the curse that came from sin! In addition,

3. The prospect of separation from the body, and the dissolution of this animal part in the grave, is another circumstance which exasperates the views of death, even to the best of men.

No sane man ever hated his own flesh. Instead, he nourishes and cherishes it. We may sometimes think philosophically that the body is a burden or a prison. Yet God designed us to live in these bodies. Because of that, we have a natural and necessary love for them. It would trouble us deeply if they were simply annihilated—if every particle scattered and could never be traced again. But a righteous God, to show his anger against sin even more, has set this end for our mortal bodies. It is something very humbling and painful to face. These bodies must rot in the grave. Worms and insects will devour them—creatures we regard as the lowest and most disgusting.

This plan is actually wiser and kinder than if our bodies stayed solid forever, like marble statues, so grieving friends could keep staring at them and prolong their sorrow. A kind man might even find some comfort in knowing the atoms of his body could help future generations in small ways. Still, when we look straight at what happens right after death, it takes real faith to accept it. It takes strength to look at the grave and say with a calm and cheerful heart, “You are my father.” And to the worm, “You are my mother and my sister.” These facts do carry weight. Yet in some way we have to admit that all of this is only the beginning of sorrows for,

4. It is far more overwhelming to think about passing through death into the immediate presence of God and being locked forever in an unchangeable eternity.

We sin in many ways. Even the offences that seem small when people judge them will feel heavier than lead when God weighs them.

What will I do when God stands up to judge? What answer will I give him?

Right now, while I still have time to change and ask God for forgiveness, my soul already shrinks back with deep inward horror. What will it feel like when that final moment arrives? When everything about my eternity gets decided forever? When prayers and tears can no longer make any difference, and the tree falls in the direction it must stay for good?

If there is even the smallest doubt about what the outcome will be—and especially if fear takes over—then this part of the future looks far more terrifying than anything else. The terrors of death that we can see are only temporary. But the terrors we cannot see are eternal.

Yet this is the valley every one of us must walk through. It is so dark that the sun, moon, and stars disappear there. No earthly thing can be seen to bring us any comfort or joy. We must travel this lonely and painful path until one part of our nature separates from the other. When we reach the end, we face the endless ocean of eternity right in front of us. The moment we see it, we must step into it. Whose heart would not give out at such a sight if he had no friend to hold him up? Or if that friend were not all-powerful? It is greatly comforting, therefore, to add this point:

II. That the good man has reason to believe God will be with him in a kind and supportive way during this serious and decisive hour.

David said, When I go through this dark valley, I will fear no evil; for you are with me. In this sense, even the weakest person among us will be like David. Thankfully, it is not hard to find arguments to show that God will be with his people at that time to help and rescue them. The real difficulty is to keep from saying too much on this topic, since so many thoughts come up and our time is limitied.

Otherwise we could consider the relationship God has with his people as their Father. What parent stays unmoved at the deathbed of a beloved child? What parent could abandon that child in such deep distress?

We could consider the rich blessings God has prepared for the happiness of his people after the grave. That must mean he takes corresponding care to protect them through the passage. If not, those blessings would be pointless.

We could also consider all the promises God has made for this very purpose. He has committed himself to be with them in six troubles and in seven, and when they pass through fire and water. Some might say—and it is true—that many of these promises refer to smaller dangers. Certainly, but we can still draw a strong conclusion: if he stays with them in those lesser troubles, how much more will he stay with them in the greatest and most extreme ones?

And again, we could consider the experience of many Christians. God has caused them to be joyful in glory. As the Psalmist expresses elswhere, they have been joyful in glory and have sung aloud on their beds.

But I will not now open these things. We have often heard of them in other of Doddridge's sermons. We move then to the third main point were we note,

III. That the gracious presence of God with us may disarm death of its terrors.

All of us will die—even the best of Christians die. You who have lived closest to God. You who have tasted the sweetest hints of eternal life. The graves wait for you. The strong hand of death reaches out to take you. As mentioned earlier, you will die without human company around you. No human help will support you. Who can save his brother from going down to the grave? Who can claim a friendship that follows him beyond it?

But you are not completely alone, far from it! The Lord of hosts is with you. The God of Jacob is your refuge. The eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are his everlasting arms. Now let us take courage. Let us dare this proud conqueror to bring out all his forces and line up every terror in front of us. Surely we can say to them all, just as Isaiah said in faith to the enemies of Israel: "Be shattered, O you peoples, and be broken in pieces; gird yourselves, but be broken in pieces; for God is with us:"{Isaiah 8:9, 10} And if God is with us, he can ease our pain. He can quiet our fears. He can hold back our enemies. He can even fill our souls with joyful sights and victorious hopes, even in the worst moments our bodies face.

1. The presence of God with us in our dying moments can soften the pains of the body.

He is the great God of nature. Therefore he directs and controls all its processes and all its feelings. What is pain except an idea he creates in the mind? Because of that, pain has only as much strength as he chooses to give it. He often shows that he can reduce its sharpness even in situations that naturally make it the worst.

He who, to help the Hebrew men, put out the power of the fire and brought them out of a furnace heated seven times hotter—without being burned, hurt, or even singed—has sometimes in special ways made his people unaware of their dying pains. Sometimes, especially in cases of martyrdom, he fills their minds with such powerful comfort that they rise above the body even while still connected to it.

In other cases, we have surely seen that gentle and fearful people, during the worst stages of a deadly illness, fall into a kind of confusion. In that state they feel nothing of their sickness. The key moment of death passes without them knowing they are close to it. They probably enter eternity as surprised as if they had died from a sudden accident or in their sleep while healthy.

When we think seriously about this, we see it as an amazing fact. The fact that it happens often may make people overlook it. Yet even though sudden death without awareness might seem far more frightening than any pain or terror a dying sinner could face, God sometimes arranges it as a special act of love. He does this for his dear children whose hearts might otherwise give way. Without this unusual help, they might become upset at the direct sight of eternity—even though they have no real reason to be afraid. But, in addition,

2. The presence of God in our dying moments can silence the tumult of our fears.

They may then be very busy. They may create frightening images in their minds. These images, only partly seen through the darkness of the valley, become even more terrifying because of that. Imagination fills in what remains hidden.

But God has a voice that can reach every one of them. He can silence them and drive them away in an instant. Instead of all their noise and confusion, the person only hears his Father saying, "Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God."{Isaiah 41:10} This gives enough strength to the weak. It adds power to those who have none.

3. The power which God has to restrain Satan.

That evil spirit would love to terrify and torment a person, even if he cannot destroy him. He would eagerly try to keep the soul out of heaven. But if he cannot do that, he would eagerly try to block any foretastes of heaven that the person might enjoy here on earth. He would eagerly try to make all natural fears worse. He might even suggest supernatural terrors.

His goal is to steal the dying Christian's victory. He wants to rob those left behind of the encouragement and comfort that a joyful saint gives them. If possible, he wants to discourage them by what they sometimes see of the opposite kind in cases where they least expect it. For this reason he often attacks with great fury, because he knows his time is short.

But remember this: that miserable evil spirit is a defeated rebel. God keeps him on a chain. He could not touch Job's body without permission. He could not even touch a single pig of the Gadarenes without permission. God can simply order him to leave. Or God can make his presence—if he is near the dying bed of a believer—become a place of torment for the spirit himself.

Christ can use the death of his saints, just as he uses their resurrection, to repeat his own victories. By those victories he defeated principalities and powers and displayed them openly. If Christ allows the spirit to trouble his servants for a short time, it will soon end—and end forever. "O my enemy," the victorious soul in heaven will soon say in a song of joy that only those blessed places know, "O my enemy! Destruction and terror have now come to a permanent end." In fact, the believer is often able by faith to say these words even here on earth, while still lying in what looks like his weakest state. This leads to the fourth observation which is,

4. That God can strengthen our faith in the coming glory and a happy resurrection. In this way he not only takes away death's terror, but turns it into joy.

What can do it more effectively than faith like this, actively working in the heart? Paul said this with full confidence. He cried out, "O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?"{1 Corinthians 15:55} Do not object that Paul had special reasons to say it; That He had been caught up to the third heaven; That he had heard its songs; had seen its unspeakable glory. God can send a divine light into the departing spirit. He can show it how great, how certain, and how close its coming happiness is.

The great Father of spirits can, by his quiet influence, separate the soul of a dying Christian from all ties to the senses before the body and soul part. He can lift the person's thoughts to holy excitement even while the cold hand of death chills the blood in his failing veins and slows his weak, struggling pulse.

God can give him strength to say: I see heaven opened, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God. Jesus, my Saviour, my Intercessor, and my Forerunner. All these wonderful sights come from his dying love. I see his smiling face, and heaven is there. I see the great gathering of the firstborn, drinking endless joy from looking at him. My thirsty soul will drink its fill among them.

He who thirsted, and in his own death agonies stooped to taste the vinegar for me, now places the cup of salvation in my hand. He opens the springs of eternal life for me. I will drink and forget my poverty here below. I will remember my misery no more—if that can even be called misery when it has been mixed with such hopes.

I say goodbye to my friends on earth for a short time. I am going to the best of friends, to a whole gathering where each one is better—in what matters most—than anyone I have known here. And there is Jesus, the best of friends. He holds out the crown to place on my immortal head. He opens his loving arms to embrace me. By that embrace he pours all of heaven over my soul at once.

These glories belong to me. Death, instead of cutting me off from my God, will carry me to him. Though in the short term it makes this feeble body even worse than before, it will become the happy means of purifying and changing it. Death will break it apart so it can be reshaped, as if cast into a new form. It will come out as a shining, immortal copy of my Saviour's glorious body.

Let death come with all its terrors. Let it hurt me if it can, while my Lord stays so near and pours his quiet, life-giving presence over my heart. Let my body feel the blow and collapse under it. The more it suffers, the sooner it will fall. That will free a higher spirit that the body has so often trapped.

Welcome the gentle strike that breaks my chains at once and wakes my soul to leave its prison! And, O my God! If what I suffer now can show the power of faith, and through that show the glory of him who creates and upholds it, I will welcome these sufferings. I will rejoice—not only though I die, but because I die. I will say that death belongs to me if, by my death, even the smallest extra honor can go to you.

Here Doddridge shares some encouraging thoughts about a member of his congregation who had recently died. He points out that, through God's goodness, the substance of this sermon found a clear and beautiful example in her life and death.

She was a very kind and pleasant woman. Her disposition was unusually cheerful. She was delightful to talk with. Her heart was naturally warm and open to deep, generous, and loving friendship.

As a wife, she was affectionate and considerate. As a mother, she showed great tenderness—yet at the same time she felt a strong love for the souls of her children. That love drove her to pray earnestly for their well-being every single day.

She was a thoughtful and solid Christian. She loved God and spiritual things deeply. She believed sincerely and warmly in Christ and his grace—and that grace remained extremely precious to her soul, both in life and in death.

She took real joy in the Lord's Day, in the worship services, and in God's people. She loved to read Scripture and to spend time alone in religious reflection. She was careful and thorough in her private walk with God and in the daily duties of personal devotion.

As to how God dealt with her during her final illness, it is striking that some weeks before the sickness struck, she felt strongly moved by God's message to Hezekiah: "Set your house in order, for you shall die, you shall not recover."{Isaiah 38:1} She quickly rose above any fear. She stayed patient and submissive under God's hand. During the times when she was calm and clear-headed, she prayed short, fervent prayers often.

She entrusted her soul with strong and living faith into the hands of Jesus, her Mediator and Redeemer. She rejoiced in the sight of his righteousness. That righteousness gave her confidence as she faced God. She used many moments, both day and night, to urge the friends around her to stay on the Lord's path. She said a solemn, calm, yet deeply loving goodbye to her husband and to her children. She placed them into God's covenant and his grace.

In this state of heart and mind, death came to her. As she passed through the dark valley, she feared no evil. It was plain to everyone that God was with her. His rod and his staff brought her so much comfort that those who watched could not help but feel wonder and joy. And so she went peacefully into death. In doing so, she honored God and became a powerful encouragement to everyone around her.

To close, here are three reflections: first for sinners, then for saints who no longer fear death, and lastly for those still fighting those fears.

1. First, a word to sinners—to all who effectively ignore true religion.

Here is the question: Is it not appointed for everyone to die once? And does that include you? If you have some special exemption, show it. But if you do not, then start looking toward the grave where you will soon lie. Start thinking about what you will soon experience.

What support do you have when death comes? Do you have some hidden source of comfort that no one knows about yet? It cannot come from the world. Its best pleasures will only make the final separation more bitter. It cannot come from God. Unbelievers have no connection with him. So what is your hope? What is your confidence? You have none. You are without hope. You will have to walk through that dark valley completely alone, facing all its terrors—without God as your friend. Even worse, with God as your enemy.

You might wish you could find the way to paradise, but even if you reached its gates, you would face cherubim and a flaming sword there. They would drive you away forever—not into a world like this one (which, compared to Eden, is a desert, but compared to the places of horror that God's justice has prepared for unrepentent sinners, would seem like paradise). Those places are pictured as a lake that burns with fire and brimstone.

This condition is miserable enough to ruin any pleasure sinners might get from other thoughts. If you want God's help when you die, seek his favor right now—today. Seek it the only way it can be found: by humbly turning back to him through Christ, and by trusting in the blood and righteousness of the great Redeemer. His role and his glory are to save people from the coming wrath.

2. Second, a word to those who have already overcome the fear of death.

The call to you today—and every day—is to look deep in your hearts and admire the grace of God. This grace has prepared these comforts for you. It has given them to you. It has stored up these strong supports and applied them to your souls so you do not sink under what nature finds most frightening.

Take on real courage because of these helps. Face death with calm steadiness, no matter how it comes. It might come through violence. It might come through a sudden accident. It might come through a severe illness that feels far more painful and terrifying—one that slowly pulls the soul out of the body. Or it might come in an instant, right in the middle of your youth, your joys, or your plans. No matter how long or dark the valley is, God will be there. You will see him in the light of his own glory.

And if the passing happens in a moment, what could be better than to close your eyes here and open them to see God? Since he has made our eternal hope secure on the solid ground of his promise, it is below the honor and strength of a Christian to worry about those uncertain details. God himself did not think they were important enough to include in his covenant promise. Let us not be anxious about them. It would be wrong to act as if we could not be satisfied to die in God's arms and be raised in those same arms to his heavenly kingdom—unless it happens at this exact time or in this exact place.

3. Third, a word to those who sincerely want to take hold of God's covenant through the Redeemer, yet still feel strong anxious fears about dying.

These fears come from different causes, but they all come down to a lack of faith. If faith were active and strong, it would drive all these fears away. To help you exercise faith more powerfully and effectively, consider these encouragements.

Make a clear, solemn commitment of yourself to God—as if you are doing it right in his presence. Be as direct and specific as you can when you place your soul into his hands and take hold of his covenant in the Lord Jesus Christ, his Son. Do this openly in your private times alone.

Stay watchful against sin at all times. Sin tends to scare the mind when you think about God. It makes you pull back from your only true support. And do not just focus on avoiding sin.

Work hard to serve God actively. The more you spend time with him in every duty you do, the closer and more loving your relationship with him will become. Then you will think with real joy about leaving this world—everything you value and love here—and going to be with him. You will know better things wait for you. Your spiritual strengths will grow as you use them. Your assurance will increase as your strengths grow.

Finally, build up a store of prayers every day for the time when you are dying. If you cannot pray then because you are too weak, God can look back at the prayers you have already offered. He can answer them in your moment of need.

This is the path we are pointed to. It is the path where we can find rest and peace, hope and joy. Apply the lessons of this sermon every day. Then you can have real hope and comfort. The God you have loved, the God you have served, the God you have walked with, the God you have sought—he will look on you with favor when everything else fades from your sight. He will give you strength to say—even if your lips are too weak to speak the words—"Into your hand I commit my spirit; you have redeemed me, O Lord, faithful God!"{Psalm 31:5}